Twelve's Days of Christmas
by NerdySpaceBean
Summary: A parody of the Twelve Days of Christmas song, but Doctor Who series 8 and 9 themed! Each chapter is a separate story. (Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, or any of the characters.)
1. Clara Travelling with Me

**A/N:**

 **Merry Christmas! To celebrate the festive season in the nerdiest way possible, I'll be writing 12 chapters over the next 12 days, making a Doctor Who parody of the 12 Days of Christmas. I hope you all have a fantastic holiday, and enjoy this fic :)**

 **P.S. I'm super excited for the DW special today, I hope you all enjoy that too! (I'm sure I will)**

* * *

 _On the first day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: Clara travelling with Me._

"Like I said, Gallifrey. The long way round." Clara stated mischievously, grinning at Ashildr as the time rotor in the centre of their new TARDIS began to rise and fall, signalling their first journey together through the time vortex. The impossible girl (quite literally, now, since she wasn't technically alive) had no idea where they would travel to first, she only knew she was going to stall for as long as possible before finally deciding to go back and face the raven. Of course, it was tragic that she could no longer travel with the Doctor, even more so that he could barely remember her, but that was the inevitability of travelling with him; one of them is always destined to die, or be trapped, or get left behind, or forget. Clara had just taken longer than most to accept this. And now she had the ability to avoid her fate for as long as she wished, she could live in denial or happy oblivion for this amount of time. At least, until she was ready to return.

"How are you feeling?" Ashildr spoke abruptly, interrupting Clara's pensive overview of recent events. Despite her usual apathy, Ashildr appeared sympathetic and genuinely concerned about Clara's current mood.

"Great. Yeah, really great. Brilliant, even." Acting nonchalant, Clara flashed Ashildr a superficial smile, but she could see beyond the apparently cheerful surface.

"It's okay, you know. You can mourn, you don't have to hide from me." Ashildr remarked softly.

Clara kept up her careless attitude. "Mourn? What do you mean? It's not like anyone's dead."

"Perhaps not, though you will grieve the Doctor's dead memories of you – is that not the same?"

At this point, Clara finally dropped the façade and turned to gaze directly at Ashildr while she spoke. "The Doctor might not remember who I am, but what happened was in his best interests. I couldn't let go of him until I literally died, and even then he didn't let go of me for over four and a half billion years. He would never have moved on from me if he didn't forget. Forgetting was the only way, and it was the best way."

The immortal girl nodded in understanding. After all, she had also loved, lost, and forgot. Instead of pursuing the subject of the Doctor, she addressed a different issue. "What about your death? You must still be fearful of that."

"I've got the whole universe ahead of me! All of time and space, in this TARDIS, before I even have to think about that." Clara had a point.

"But your death is a fixed point in time. It has to happen eventually, you can't avoid it forever-"

"Neither can anyone else!" Yelling in emphasis, Clara laughed a little before calming down and increasing the sincerity of her tone. "Look, everyone has to face death at some point. Knowing it's inevitable doesn't make it any less scary. But for most people, it's unexpected, unplanned. I have an advantage in that respect – I know exactly when, where, and how I'm going to die. Oh, and another advantage – I can run away. I can live my life to the absolute fullest, travel wherever and whenever I want, stall for as long as I want. Yeah, I have to face death someday, but I can choose when that day will be. I don't have to die until I'm ready. So I have no reason to be scared. Right now, I just want to bloody enjoy myself. Is that too much to ask?"

Ashildr was taken aback by Clara's speech, though not entirely surprised. It was only fitting that she would be brave, confident, and excited when considering her future, especially since she'd been given a second chance. Although Ashildr had not been a fan of her humanity back when she was fully mortal (and even less so now she was immortal), she could certainly admire the utter courage and resilience of humans. And she definitely couldn't argue with anything Clara had just said. Therefore, instead, Ashildr simply smiled to show her agreement and admiration, believing that words weren't necessary.

"And besides," Clara added with a grin. "I'm travelling with Me, what more could I want?"

Faking confusion, Ashildr replied. "What do you mean? I know you're travelling, but you're not on your own – I'm with you."

"Yes, I know, that's what I meant. I'm travelling with Me, as in you." Clara attempted to explain herself.

"But I'm not you, I'm Me."

"I know you're not _me_ me, I mean Me me."

"Meme? Isn't that pronounced 'meem'?"

"Oh for God's sake – _you_ are _Me_ , as in 'me' with a capital 'M'. That's what you call yourself, don't you?" Clara was getting visibly frustrated now.

Unable to maintain her teasing, Ashildr giggled.

"Oh you – You're having me on, aren't you?" Realisation dawned on Clara, and she placed her hands on her hips while glaring at her companion.

"How about I just stick to 'Ashildr' from now on?" Ashildr concluded, chuckling. Clara was still vaguely irritated. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You are cute when you're angry."

The corners of Clara's lips curled upwards in a smirk that said 'that compliment was super sweet and also you're cute but I'm still kind of annoyed with you'. "Oh stop it, you."

"'You'? But I'm Me-"

"Don't you dare start that again." Clara warned, but it was all in good humour. The two girls laughed together as their TARDIS flew through the time vortex like a house in a tornado – or rather, an American diner in a tornado. It wasn't long before the machine materialised in their first weird and wonderful location, and Clara and Me began their first proper joint adventure.


	2. Two Osgoods

_On the second day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: two Osgoods (and Clara travelling with Me)._

It was a week after the events of the Zygon invasion, and the UNIT team had pretty much finished clearing up after the fallout. Osgood was the one to sort most of it, working by Kate's side and filling in the gaps of how the invasion was prevented from her memory wipe in the Black Archives, although she couldn't tell the full truth about it – she naturally trusted the Doctor's logic in solving the situation, and didn't wish to be the person to unravel that. Therefore, Osgood continued to file the report concerning the past couple of days, as well as dealing with the deaths of the UNIT soldiers (including Jac). Press coverage was taken care of by another section of UNIT, and they simply claimed that a recent mission had gone wrong, remaining vague on the details. There was also plenty of paperwork to deal with, but that only took a few days to complete, thanks to the team's strong work ethic. That, and the fact that Osgood actually had an extra pair of helping hands.

See, Osgood was the only person working at UNIT that knew about her Zygon counterpart, Bonnie. The two Osgoods had decided to stick together, but this made life a little difficult. Osgood didn't want Bonnie to stay stashed away back at her house, hiding from the world; however, she also didn't fancy another version of herself strolling around London while she wasn't looking. That could make for some awkward conversations if anyone working at UNIT saw her around town after seeing her working at the headquarters a few minutes prior. In order to maintain a balanced dual life, they had to cooperate. Considering this as well as her workload, Osgood decided that they could both work at UNIT simultaneously. Osgood could complete some paperwork, while the other Osgood could do some filing. Of course, it was an incredibly risky business, so they only did it when Osgood was particularly busy, but it was certainly useful.

Now, after finishing the Zygon business at UNIT, the Osgoods had a bit of a break before their duty called them back to deal with yet another inevitable alien threat and save the world again. In this time, they strolled to Osgood's favourite park and sat down to play a game of chess together.

"Do you know, I've always wanted to play chess with myself." Osgood spoke, smiling as she moved her first piece (one of the middle pawns, forward two spaces). "I got bored of winning against my parents and friends-"

"-and I thought it would be more of a challenge if it was me versus me." Bonnie finished, grinning up at the replica of herself as she mirrored Osgood's move on the chessboard. "I do know, I share your memories."

"Yes, well it's a little difficult to get used to again. It took some time with the first one, and when I lost her-"

"-I felt as if half of me was missing. Now, I feel whole again, and it's strange. I know what you mean." Bonnie spoke wistfully, focusing on Osgood's next move – she brought another pawn forwards, just one space this time.

"But I'm getting there. It's like having another sister." Osgood's tone was light, although her eyes betrayed her sadness, looking down at the pawn Bonnie was currently sliding one space forwards.

"A better sister. A twin, someone who understands me better than Camilla ever did." Bonnie completed, her voice resentful now. By Camilla, she was referring to Osgood's older sister, the one she had always envied.

Sighing, Osgood shook her head and made her next chess move. "There's no point in me being bitter about Camilla. I don't see her anymore, I don't have to worry about being second best. And besides, she's-"

"-still family, so I shouldn't let negative feelings get between us. Yes, I know. Plus, it only drags down my mood. Right now, we have a brilliant job with great colleagues who praise us and treat us like the intelligent, worthy person that we are. No more second best, no more shying away from the limelight. We've saved the world! It doesn't get much better than this." Bonnie enthused, copying Osgood's move once again.

"Of course, you're – I mean, I'm right." Osgood replied firmly, picking up her bishop and gently placing it three squares diagonal to its original place. She decided to move on from such a personal subject, still getting used to discussing such matters with another twin version of herself. Instead, she focused on current events. "So, how long do you think the treaty will last this time?"

"Clearly you've already assumed it won't last forever. Nothing does, I suppose. Though that's still quite out of character for you – Osgood, ever the optimist. What makes you see things differently this time?" Bonnie inquired, her head tilting to one side in curiosity. She temporarily abandoned their game of chess while she listened attentively to Osgood's reply.

"Well, didn't the Doctor say the whole situation had already happened fifteen times? If that's the case, it's bound to happen again." Osgood pointed out.

"Oh, _the Doctor_ says. I should have known you'd follow his logic. You really do trust that man, don't you?" Bonnie asked genuinely, although her feelings towards the Time Lord were evidently not entirely positive.

"Why shouldn't I? He's the ultimate defender of planet Earth, he's saved every human's life countless times. You should know how I feel about him. Though I can't say the same for you… What exactly is your opinion of the Doctor now? In the little time you've known him, your relationship has been – how can I put this – troublesome, to say the least. You wanted him dead. What about now?" Osgood spoke passionately about her idol, and was happy to participate in a conversation of alternate views about him.

Bonnie considered her answer for a moment. "The Doctor is a pompous, irritating, full-of-himself, interfering train wreck of a man. And I hate to admit it, but he's right about everything, all the time. His views on war were entirely accurate, which made me despise him even more. But there comes a time when we all have to step down from that pedestal on which we place ourselves, and admit to our faults. The Doctor made me do that, in the Black Archives on that dark day. He showed me what heroism truly means, and he talked me down from the brink of destruction. For that, I admire him. Aside from all this, I hope to never lay eyes on him again."

Osgood chuckled. "I understand. Strangely enough, I really do. But you still haven't answered my question: how long do you think the treaty will last?"

"Things are different now, and my knowledge of what happened, what nearly happened, has given me a new perspective. I won't be breaking any treaties anytime soon, but that's not to say no one else will. Honestly, who knows what the future brings?" Bonnie's opinion was rather philosophical, and Osgood was quite happy to leave things that way.

"Anyway, it's your move." She pointed out, referring back to their chess game.

"So it is." Bonnie smiled, and their game went on. The first game was won by Osgood, the second by Bonnie, and their alternate victories persisted until they grew bored and returned to work. Neither of them emerging triumphant, neither defeated. Just existing in harmony, as they should be.


	3. Three Hybrids

_On the third day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: three hybrids (two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

One day, while Clara was grabbing a change of clothes in preparation for their next adventure, the Doctor was speculating in the console room of the TARDIS. It was these moments when he was alone in which he tended to silently ponder over whatever perplexing matter was currently plaguing his mind. Said perplexing matter was the hybrid.

" _There was a prophecy, Doctor, on your own world. It spoke of a hybrid creature. Two great warrior races forced together to create a warrior greater than either."_

One hand leaning on the console, the Doctor's gaze grew distant as he considered Davros' words. Davros had just assumed the hybrid would be half-Time Lord, half-Dalek – two races renowned for their warrior construction due to the Time War. But that was a little obvious, wasn't it? It would be appropriate and ironic if that type of hybrid was the case, but it seemed almost too easy. And besides, Davros' plan of luring the Doctor by appealing to his compassionate nature and trapping him into contributing towards the hybrid creature had failed, and he very much doubted there would be another opportunity for the creation of a Time Lord-Dalek hybrid.

Another thought occurred to the Doctor: could Davros have been lying about the prophecy? He had told the Doctor it was a Gallifreyan prophecy, but he could have invented that so that his words were closer to home for the Time Lord, and he felt a connection to them. After all, if the concept appealed to the Doctor, he would be more likely to give it his approval, and making the Dalek race more powerful would only ever benefit Davros. However, Davros must have known the Doctor's relationship with his own people was complicated, to say the least, and claiming a prophecy was Gallifreyan didn't guarantee its appeal.

Assuming the prophecy was real, the Doctor's thoughts moved to a different hybrid. Ashildr. Granting the girl immortality had turned her into a hybrid of human and Mire – although humanity in general couldn't necessarily be classed as a warrior race, Ashildr was a Viking girl, and Vikings were most certainly warriors. As for the Mire, they were creatures with robot casing that were pretty much made for battle, aka definite warriors. Since Ashildr was immortal, there was a fair chance she would cross paths with the Doctor again at some point, and he was strongly connected to Gallifrey… Could she be the prophesised dual creature?

The only other possible hybrid (the third one) the Doctor could think of was Osgood. There were two creatures taking on the form of the girl – one was definitely a Zygon, and there was a 50/50 chance the other was human. If the other one was actual Osgood, human Osgood, then together they were two separate races who almost started a war against one another; they almost became warriors. It was a long shot, but could the Osgoods be the hybrid?

At this point, Clara entered the control room after having changed into a long-sleeved black t-shirt and a neat blue pencil skirt, along with black tights and boots. The Doctor typically didn't notice her outfit swap, since he was never aware of differences in human appearance, though he paid attention to her the second she entered the room.

Whirling around and pointing a finger at his companion, the Doctor began to verbally theorise. "You. Human, but maybe not by everyone's definition. I mean, you probably look human, you're very short and bossy which I suppose is normal for your species. You humans are incredibly varied, after all. But you travel with me so you're bound to contain at least a tiny amount of particles from other worlds or the time vortex. And there's that whole 'impossible girl' thing – perhaps you're not so ordinary after all. You could be a hybrid."

"What a way to greet a girl." Clara commented, her reaction a mixture of surprise, amusement, and vague offense. However, she knew better than to question the Time Lord's speculative words.

Ignoring her reply, the Doctor continued his rant, stepping excitably around the TARDIS. He pointed to himself this time. "Me. Time Lord, or so I've been told. My eighth self was under the impression that I'm human on my mother's side, which is frankly ridiculous, but perhaps not entirely false. I do spend copious amounts of time on your planet, and I am technically a runaway from my own species. I could be a hybrid."

"It's great that you're endeavouring on a path of self-discovery, really. But you promised me a different planet. You said we'd go somewhere new, and I said I needed a change of clothes, and you shrugged and muttered something about not understanding clothes or humans or whatever as I left, and I got changed, and-" Clara rambled on before being interrupted.

"Blimey, you could talk for England! No, Britain. In fact, you could talk for the whole of Earth!" The Doctor exclaimed hypocritically.

"Says you!" Scoffing, Clara's expression was critical of her friend. However, she decided to just let it go, otherwise she figured they wouldn't be seeing a planet or world, or anything outside the TARDIS anytime soon. "The point is, now I'm ready, so can we just go?" Gesturing to the TARDIS doors (the ones that lead to outside), Clara spoke exasperatedly as she grew impatient.

"What was I saying about being bossy?" Slightly bewildered, the Doctor replied briefly, then continued his contemplating aloud. "Everyone is a hybrid in their own way. Every _thing_ , even. Clothes are made from mixtures of cotton and wool fibres, dogs can be crossbred, even plants can be switched up and fused together to form a new type of dual flower. As for a hybrid of two warrior races, well it depends on your personal definition of what a warrior is."

"Doctor! Me, you, another planet, now!" Clara called out, her impatience now exacerbating and morphing into frustration.

"But the hybrid, Clara! Who is it? What is it? Has it even been created yet?" He grabbed his companion by the shoulders frantically as he bombarded her with rhetorical questions. The Doctor's irritation at lack of answers was now equal to Clara's annoyance at his lack of a relevant response.

"Does it matter?" Clara pointed out, her wide brown eyes gazing into the Doctor's pale blue ones. "You promised me aliens! Please can we just forget about the hybrid and go?"

Finally realising how much he was irritating his companion, the Doctor ceased his frustrated questions and speculations. He stepped back from Clara, his arms dropping to his sides, and spoke calmly. "Fine. A new planet it is."

Pressing buttons and pulling levers to get the TARDIS where they wanted to be, the Doctor glanced briefly at Clara and gave her a small smile. "You know I get carried away sometimes. When I get too annoying, just splash me with water or something."

"You give me your word for that?" Clara asked teasingly, grinning. Knowing she was joking, the Doctor simply smirked at her instead of gracing her with an answer.

The two of them remained in silence for the next few minutes until the TARDIS materialised on a new and interesting world. As they strolled over to the doors separating them from the comforting old machine and an unfamiliar planet, Clara was the first to resume speaking.

"I hope they do coffee, I'm gasping for one."

"Coffee…" The Doctor began, his contemplating tone returning. "Contains beans, water, sugar and milk. The ultimate hybrid."

"You mention that word one more time, I'll smack you so hard you'll regenerate." Although the Doctor knew Clara didn't mean it, her voice was threatening enough to make him reluctant to put it to the test. Instead, he followed her out of the TARDIS and into their next adventure.


	4. Four Coal Hill Schools

_On the fourth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: four Coal Hill Schools (three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

"Doctor, I really need to get back to school now." Clara urged, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows in concern. She was currently situated in the TARDIS console room again, and had got dressed in a teacher-esque outfit in preparation to return to her English classroom… about five TARDIS trips ago.

It was her fourth time returning to Coal Hill School after hopping back into a particularly lengthy and adventurous trip with the new Doctor, so she knew it would be strange, but she also had a duty to maintain her job. She did actually enjoy her job, despite it being incredibly mundane compared to her alternate time and space travelling hobby outside of 'normal' life. But that was the good thing about working at Coal Hill School – it was a relaxing respite from what could be an overwhelming and exhausting life with the Doctor.

The Doctor naturally misunderstood Clara's request, and his large, vaguely fearsome eyebrows pulled low over his intense gaze as he replied. "Back to school? But you must be about fifty years of age by now, I assume you have undergone education at least once already. Why do you need to go through it again?"

"Okay, first of all, fifty? I'm twenty-seven, Doctor! To say you're a time traveller, your concept of age is really quite worrying. Secondly, I'm not going back to learn – I'm a teacher! An English teacher, remember?" Clara exclaimed, her exasperation at her friend clearly showing.

"Ohhh, I get it now." The Doctor nodded in understanding. "You help the actual pupils to learn the work given to them at school."

"Yes! Well done, gold star for you." Clapping sarcastically, Clara smiled.

"But why do you teach them English? The school is in England, so I'm guessing most pupils already speak English. Why are you teaching them a language they already know?" The Doctor was genuinely curious; he wasn't faking his confusion.

"Oh for God's sake." Clara sighed, wanting to leave the TARDIS. However, she was aware that the Doctor wouldn't go until she had explained her job to him. "English doesn't mean the language, not in school. It means we read books together as a class and analyse them, write essays on them, that kind of thing. Now can we go?"

Finally, the Doctor understood. Any further questions he neglected as he fully focused on Clara's request. "Okay, well since I don't remember how to get to this school-"

"You don't remember? It's only been a few weeks!" Clara's tone was critical and surprised.

"Yes, well, I must have deleted it. It's not interesting, or important." The Doctor's words were slightly rude, but Clara was getting used to his stubborn and sincere persona, so she ignored it. "I'll have to use the TARDIS TAS-Nav to get there." He continued.

"TAS-Nav? What's that, then?" Clara inquired.

"Time And Space Navigation. It's the Time Lord equivalent of a Sat-Nav. I enter the name or coordinates of a location, along with the date and time of desired arrival, and the TARDIS should take us right there." The Doctor explained.

" _Should_ take us there? Not _will_?" Clara noticed.

"Nothing's fool proof, Clara." He glanced up at her briefly, stating it as if it were obvious.

Clara rolled her eyes. "Well, that's just great."

"Oh, don't be like that! I'll get us there eventually." The Doctor gave his companion a lop-sided smile in an attempt at reassuring her, but it didn't really work. Instead of dwelling on the possibility of their trip going wrong, he proceeded with it. "What's the school called?"

"Coal Hill School."

The Doctor entered it on the keypad. "And the date is…?"

"The autumn term starts on September the third, so that date, at about quarter to nine in the morning."

Tapping the buttons, the Doctor then turned to the TARDIS console and pulled a lever to trigger their journey through the time vortex. After a suspiciously short amount of time, they had arrived.

"Right! There you go, beyond those doors lies Coal Hill School, and a new era of teaching small humans insignificant things about books." The Doctor introduced, his tone ever cynical.

"The humans aren't actually that small. It's a high school I teach at, so most of them are taller than me." Clara pointed out.

"What?"

"Nothing, never mind." Clara brushed it off, then turned back to her friend on her way out. "I suppose I'll see you whenever, then."

"Yes. I won't set a specific date, you know I'm terrible at keeping to it." The Doctor's words basically translated into 'I won't be returning at any point in the immediate future, though I'll try not to leave it too late because I'm quite worried that if I do, you won't care about travelling with me anymore'.

Clara understood this, and nodded her head, remaining as positive as possible. "See you later."

Despising farewells, the Doctor refused to say goodbye, instead stepping backwards awkwardly and returning to the console so he could hide his face behind the monitor. Giving one last glance at her friend, Clara quickly turned away and eased open one TARDIS door. When she stepped out, she was met with the strangest and most unexpected sight.

"Doctor?" She called out, frozen in place. "Doctor, this isn't my school!"

The ground beneath Clara was a fierce blood red, the sky above her a breath-taking shade of green. Ahead of her was an odd yet weirdly beautiful building, shaped in a topsy-turvy manner yet twisted into such interesting angles, it was so mesmerising to look at. An alarm, or bell of sorts, was ringing out loudly, originating from the building – it was a different type of alarm sound than Clara was used to on Earth, more like an alien scanner or something. Hang on a minute… alien! That was it!

"This definitely isn't Earth." Clara stated the obvious to herself as she figured out where exactly she was. "But judging by the building in front of me and the bell I'm hearing, this must be-"

"This is a school, but it's not your school." The Doctor completed Clara's speculation as he exited the TARDIS, leaving the door slightly ajar as he stood beside her. His companion glanced at him in surprise as he stared back. "I entered the correct school name into the system, but yours can't be the only Coal Hill School in the universe. I checked the location on the monitor as soon as we arrived – this is Laco Lilh School, on the planet Plintob. This school's name is an anagram of yours, which must have confused the TAS-Nav and so we were sent here instead."

Nodding slowly, Clara posed a rather unexpected question. "Can we explore it?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. The creatures of this planet – Plintobians – are really quite isolated. They don't appreciate new or different company at all, and I do believe they'd become hostile towards us. Anyway, I thought you needed to get back to school ASAP?" The Doctor's sinister tone persuaded Clara to want to return to the TARDIS, and his last point was very true.

"Yeah… Back to the TARDIS it is, then."

After leaping back into their machine and slamming the doors shut behind them, the Doctor deleted Laco Lilh School from the TAS-Nav database, once again pulling the lever to travel to the next place the TAS-Nav sent them (hopefully the right one this time). It didn't take long for the TARDIS to materialise.

"Alright! See you later, again." Clara said goodbye to her friend for the second time that day, still feeling a pang of despair at leaving him, though not quite as much as the previous time.

"Yes." The Doctor agreed, just as reluctant to say farewell as before.

Stepping out again into a completely different world than the last one, Clara found herself in what appeared to be a store room cupboard. Scanning the vicinity, she noticed the shelves were stacked with pencils and paper – in other words, a typical _human_ school cupboard. Sighing with relief, Clara cautiously opened the door, peeping out to ensure no one saw her and questioned why she was in there. However, when she explored more of the school via the corridors, she noticed it didn't look at all like the Coal Hill School she was familiar with. Investigating further, Clara strolled warily down the corridor until she approached the first door. Since it didn't contain a window, like the door to her own classroom did, she had no choice but to knock and open it to view what was inside.

"Come in!" A cheery female voice (presumably the teacher) called out, beckoning Clara into the classroom. "How may I help you?"

Staring wide-eyed at the teacher, Clara instantly knew she was in the wrong place. The teacher's hair was all kept neatly out of her face in a pleat, she wore a turtleneck jumper with a knee-length pencil skirt, and she was stood next to a blackboard the length of the wall, adorned with educational jargon words written with chalk. When Clara's gaze swept the room, she noticed the pupils were dressed in tidy yet varied clothes and were seated at individual wooden desks. They scribbled enthusiastically on paper using fountain pens, too engrossed in their work to even notice the out-of-place visitor.

Once Clara realised the teacher was still staring at her, awaiting an answer, she fixed a pleasant smile on her face and hastily invented a reply. "Oh! Er, wrong classroom, sorry!"

Not sticking around long enough to see the teacher's reaction, Clara left the room and quickly shut the door. Frowning, she then dashed back along the route she had entered with, desperately hoping the TARDIS would still be in the store cupboard. If not, she'd be stuck in this strange era for goodness knows how long. Fortunately, just as she turned the handle on the cupboard door, the Doctor was exiting the cupboard and they almost ran into each other.

"The sixties! You brought me to the sixties!" Clara exclaimed, infuriated but still slightly amused.

"Sorry, sorry." The Doctor apologised briefly, then went on to explain how it happened. "This is the right school, but I realised I forgot to enter the year of desired arrival along with the date and time. You're right, this is Coal Hill School in 1963. This really takes me back – quite literally."

"Oh haha, very funny." Clara rolled her eyes. "Enough with the puns already! Just get me to my own school, in my own time. _Please_." She added as an afterthought.

"Right! Back into the TARDIS, hurry up now." The Doctor urged, gesturing for Clara to go first, which she did, glaring unthreateningly at him as she did.

Closing the door behind him, the Doctor penguin-waddled into the TARDIS and returned to the console, hurriedly typing in '2014' after 'Coal Hill School' in the TAS-Nav keypad. "Right, it should work this time."

"Thanks, that's very reassuring."

"Hey! Sarcasm is the highest form of wit, you know." The Doctor spoke in an accusatory manner, pointing a finger at Clara to emphasise his point.

"You do realise that's a compliment, Doctor?" Clara mentioned, confused.

"Or is it lowest form of wit? Probably, but mine still works – wit is dangerous. It causes over-confidence and arrogance, and arrogance is what gets people killed." His tone low, the Doctor's philosophical words came across as vaguely ominous.

Instead of encouraging another of the Doctor's verbal speculative rants, Clara stopped him in his tracks by changing the subject back to the matter in hand. "It's getting late… First day back is important, you know. My actions will set people's impressions of me in stone for at least the first term."

"Yes, I get the picture." The Doctor snapped, but not in a way that made Clara offended or annoyed with him. He lightened his voice a little with his next words. "Next stop, Coal Hill School!"

Pulling the lever for the third time, the TARDIS flew through the time vortex and landed.

"See you later." The edge of emotion to Clara's voice had now almost disappeared completely, since she'd said it unnecessarily twice before. Instead, she sounded bored due to the constant repetition as she left the TARDIS.

Assessing her surroundings, Clara realised she was in the correct year this time. But that wasn't to say it was the correct area…

"Doctor!" She yelled, more irritated than ever. She had landed outside a building that was probably a school, but the sun above her burned far hotter than it ever would in England, and the atmosphere just felt wrong. Something caught her eye, and when she shielded her eyes against the blaring star, she noticed the Statue of Liberty standing tall and proud in the distance.

Leaping out of the TARDIS in confusion, the Doctor appeared. "What is it now? This one has to be right!"

"We're in America." Clara stated monotonously, raising her eyebrows at him in a disapproving manner.

"You don't live in America?" The Doctor asked, and although Clara knew he must have been joking, his expression was quite serious. Mentally placing aside her utter bewilderment at him, she sighed and shoved him back in the blue box, ignoring his protestations.

Following him in, Clara closed the doors and leaned against them with her back, folding her arms across her chest. "What happened this time?"

Stepping back up to the console, the Doctor soon gave her a simple answer. "Evidently there is a Coal Hill School in New York. If the next one isn't your school, I'll eat my bow tie."

In this situation, it turned out to be fourth time lucky. As soon as the TARDIS materialised, the Doctor made sure to check their location, time and date on the monitor before Clara left.

"Here we are! Coal Hill School, East London, England, 8:45am, September 3rd, 2014." The Doctor stated triumphantly, smiling proudly at his companion.

Chuckling, Clara began to head over to the doors. "Four Coal Hill Schools in the universe. Who'd have thought?"

"Actually, it's very likely that there's more. The TARDIS doesn't always pick up on every time zone or every planet. There's most certainly a Coal Hill School in a parallel universe as well, but the TARDIS can't travel to parallel universes – well, not purposely, anyway. Many different Coal Hill Schools, but this is the only one that really matters." The Doctor went on, figuring Clara wasn't interested, but unable to help himself.

"I suppose." Clara spoke wistfully, considering all the possibilities of alternate universes and planets out there. There were so many places she had yet to visit, and so many she never would. For now, though, it was time to return to a bit of normality. "Well, this is the real goodbye. For now, at least."

"Yes…" The Doctor still refused to say it, preferring keeping to minimal words until he next saw his companion.

"I know you're a man of few words when it comes to this sort of thing." Clara read his mind exactly. "So how's about this?"

"About what?" Ultimate confusion was rapidly replaced with realisation, then fear on the Doctor's face. "Wait.. No. No, you're not- You know I don't like… Clara!"

Ignoring the Doctor's protesting, Clara stepped over to him and pulled him into an awkward hug; she was clinging tightly to him as she radiated warmth and caring, whereas he froze in place, his arms firmly planted by his sides while he endured the embrace. The Doctor looked violated and uncomfortable when Clara finally pulled free.

"See you later." She beamed at her friend as she skipped to the doors. Without looking back, she departed from the TARDIS. Clara's grin extended when she recognised the store cupboard attached to her classroom. She'd got there in the end.


	5. Five Missy Schemes

_On the fifth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: FIVE MISSY SCHEMES (four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

One day, not long after his departure from the Singing Towers of Darillium, the Doctor was sat alone in his TARDIS. It was strange, the first time that particular incarnation had been without a companion (aside from his 4.5 billion years inside the confession dial, but that didn't really count as an adventure), but since his mind had been wiped of memories of Clara, he felt rather content. No rage or overwhelming loneliness, no thirst for revenge, no excessive melancholy. Just calm.

However, this didn't last long.

An almighty crash sounded from somewhere deep in the TARDIS, along with a string of cursing and obnoxiously loud complaining. Instantly leaping from his chair next to the console, the Doctor frowned warily and attempted to locate the scene of the crash with his heightened hearing and senses in general. His scowl deepened when he realised the sound must be coming from the library; he'd just spent a few days tidying the library up and organising it meticulously, so he was understandably irritated that his hard work had been undone.

Gradually weaving his way through the extensive TARDIS corridors, the Doctor called out as he approached the library. "Hello? Who's there? You better not have damaged any books in there." He added bitterly.

There came no reply, only distant shuffling noises and muffled exclamations.

"Hello? Are you a threat? An alien life form, a hostile intelligence? A Dalek, a Cyberman? Because if you are trying to kill me, I have some advice for you next time – the element of surprise really does work wonders!" The Doctor realised he was probably tempting fate by addressing a potential threat, but he was in an upbeat mood and that led to him acting overly confident.

At this point, he'd entered the library and was pacing up and down the vast aisles in search of the disturbance. Deciding he was acting a little too silly, he changed his tone slightly. "Okay, probably not a killer alien then. Are you a friend? Have you come to warn me about something? Perhaps you're a future companion for me, that'd be nice. I doubt it though…

"The only other conclusion is that you're a stowaway. You've found a way onto my ship as a way of protecting yourself, hiding from the inevitable-" Stopping abruptly, a certain person occurred to the Doctor as he considered what he was saying. Someone who had found a way to stay with him, whilst avoiding their fateful demise. "River? River, did you sneak into my TARDIS when I wasn't looking? I don't believe you! River-"

"Who's River?" The voice of the intruder, near enough to be clear and recognisable, came from behind the Doctor. "Are you cheating on me again?"

His eyes widening in horror at the familiarity of the voice, the Doctor whirled around to face the last person he expected to find in the library of his ship. "Missy. What are you doing in here?"

"I was aiming for the swimming pool, actually, but that didn't quite work out." The Time Lady smirked from standing atop a giant hill of books that she had evidently knocked off the shelves when she arrived. Jumping, Missy slid down them like it was a fairground helter-skelter, shouting 'wheeeeee!' while she did. Upon reaching the bottom, she then stood up so she was finally at the Doctor's level.

Gazing at her in complete shock, the Doctor addressed her in a low tone. He might have been interpreted as threatening if he wasn't facing the one person who would forever outwit him. "I thought you'd died on Skaro."

"Ha! Oh, please. Me getting killed? That's so last year." Missy teased playfully, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Who am I kidding, of course I knew you weren't dead." The Doctor admitted, more to himself than to Missy. "I'm assuming you got on here using your vortex manipulator?"

"Naturally." Missy beamed, tapping her wrist strap four times in quick succession, to emphasise her attachment to the device. "Never leave the TARDIS stationary for too long. You could get anyone trying to hijack your ride."

For a few moments, the two of them stood staring at each other in silence, almost like two cowboys participating in a stand-off before they draw their guns. Missy was drinking in the feel of being on the TARDIS once again, as well as the deliciously confused and worried expression on her best friend's face, whereas the Doctor was carefully considering his next words, in addition to his reluctance to move – he was well aware that if he turned his back, even for a second, Missy would attempt something nasty.

Finally, the Doctor's curiosity got the better of him. "Is that your plan? Hijack my TARDIS?"

"Oh nooooo! Been there, done that. Sure, it was fun, but why bother when I've got portable time-travel?" Missy pointed out, strolling in circles while she spoke. "No, I just noticed you floating up there in the atmosphere, minding your own business, and I thought, why not spice up your life? I know you can be very boring sometimes."

"I don't believe you." The Doctor replied monotonously, his suspicious glare boring right into her.

"Well it's true! I can't be an evil genius all the time, I need to switch things up a bit-"

"You're lying." The Doctor growled, getting frustrated now. "You always have a trick up your sleeve, a plot against me, a universe-endangering plan. So what's the catch?"

Missy gave an exaggerated eye-roll, giggling as she mocked the Doctor's desperation in figuring out her next move. " _Well_ , I-"

"What's your next scheme?" The Doctor interrupted, taking a lurching step forwards so he loomed over his nemesis. "With that face alone, you've turned almost every corpse in the world into a Cyberman for your army, you survived getting shot by one of them, you put my friend inside a Dalek and almost made me kill her, and you survived the uprising of the Dalek sewers on Skaro. What next? What's your fifth scheme?"

"Have you quite finished?" Missy replied, affronted by the Doctor's relentless accusations. "My next _scheme_ , as you so poetically put it, is nothing."

"But it can't be-"

" _Pssshht_!" Missy cut him off with a hurried shush and raised her palm in a 'stop' gesture in front of his face. "I just…" She sighed, appearing to be close to tears all of a sudden. "I just want you to trust me again. To _like_ me, even. I miss that."

Despite knowing it was all part of her act, the Doctor was still taken aback. "But… You must know I can't trust you, not after everything you've done. Trust isn't something you can pay for, or even ask for. It's something you have to earn, build up over time. If you don't make an effort to do that, then I'm afraid I can't help you."

Smiling sadly, Missy shrugged. "It was worth a try." She turned away and began to walk, as if she was leaving.

"Wait – where are you going? You can't stay here! And you still haven't told me why you really came here." The Doctor called after her.

"What happened to us, eh?" Missy's tone was light with a tinge of happy fatalism, though her eyes betrayed her inner regret. Or was that simply part of her performance too? The Doctor supposed he would never know. As Missy tapped a few buttons on her vortex manipulator and teleported off the TARDIS, the Doctor accepted he would never figure her out.


	6. Six Davros Daleks

_On the sixth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: six Davros Daleks (FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

Dashing through the corridors, desperate for an exit, Missy frantically glanced around her. The ceiling above her crumbled and the walls shook violently; even the floor on which she stood was cracking, unstable. She realised that if she didn't find a way out soon, the entire Dalek city would collapse right on top of her, and death by burial was imminent. Of course, being a Time Lady, she could simply regenerate, although she was rather fond of her current body, therefore was reluctant to do so. And besides, even if she did stay and die, her body would be trapped in the ruins of Skaro, unable to attain oxygen to live – she would die over and over again until her regeneration cycle ran out. Instead, she made the choice to survive.

"Humanoid detected! Humanoid detected!" Several Daleks approached from a clearing between the corridors, evidently identifying Missy. "Remain still. Do not move. Do not move!"

"You are a Time Lord!" A blue and silver Dalek appeared, its tone accusatory.

Rapidly changing direction, Missy attempted to retreat, but only found herself face to face with more Daleks. Whirling around in a full 360-degree rotation, she soon found herself trapped in a circle of Daleks, all of their guns trained on her hearts in preparation to fire. She was surrounded. Pieces of concrete were crashing down around them, the whole planet in turmoil. Escape seemed impossible. Yet somehow, amidst such destruction and futility, Missy grinned.

"You know what? I've just had a very clever idea."

"Explain! Explain!" One of the Daleks closest to their captor demanded.

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a twist!" Despite their limited time, Missy still managed to squeeze in a bit of sarcastic mockery. However, once she noticed the Daleks' arm-whisks twitching in an impatiently bloodthirsty manner, she soon got down to business. "Okay, you all clearly want to survive, as do I. So how about this – I transport six of you, six Daleks only, somewhere safe, and you agree to be my friends?"

"Enemies?" One of the Daleks responded.

Missy was confused for a moment until it dawned on her why that was the Dalek's reply. "Ohhhh, I forgot the word 'friend' isn't a part of your vocabulary. Okay, in other words, I save you, and you don't kill me. Hm? Whaddya say?"

The Daleks hesitated for a very brief moment, then the same one as before (who Missy presumed to be the ring leader) answered her. "Very well. Six Daleks… And Davros!"

"What?" Missy's face fell. "Him as well? This is a vortex manipulator, not a miracle worker! There's only just enough juice left in it to transport us few people – do you count as people? Meh – in one trip, so…"

"You will take Davros, or you will be exterminated! Exterminate!" The Dalek commanded, then the others joined in to form a formidable chorus of death threats.

Holding out her hands in a 'whoa, hold up!' gesture, Missy shouted over the top of their metallic voices. "Alright, alright, calm down. Okay, can you just be quiet? Stop it, will you just- SHUT UP!"

They fell silent, curiously awaiting her next words.

"That's better." The Time Lady smiled peacefully, straightening out her skirt before continuing. "Now, are you all sitting comfortably?"

"Exterminate!" The head Dalek's infuriation at Missy's stalling in a situation where time was vital burst out in the only way they knew how. "Exterminate!"

"Shhhh!" Missy held a finger to the Dalek's lips (or rather, where its lips would be if Daleks had them). The Dalek obeyed. "Right. I'll come back for Davros after I've taken care of you lot first. Do we have a deal?"

There was a moment of tension in which the Daleks didn't respond. Then, as if to spur on their decision, another giant chunk of ceiling thundered down and crushed one of the Daleks stood near the back of the circle. Whether it was because of this further destruction, or simply that a decision had been made, the main Dalek replied. "Yes. We have a deal."

"Excellent!" Missy cried in delight, clapping her hands together. "Now hold on tight, we're in for a bumpy ride!"

Tapping buttons on her wrist strap, the Time Lady teleported the six Daleks off Skaro and onto an arbitrary planet with coordinates that she happened to have memorised. The planet was desolate, void of buildings or civilisation; aka the perfect place to land seven of the most dangerous creatures in the universe. Leaping up, since she had fallen on the ground due to the speed of the teleport, Missy laughed with exhilaration.

"Welcome to your new home, boys! Or girls. Or anything in-between. Do you even have a concept of gender? Oh, I don't suppose it matters." Missy rambled on. "Anyway – off I pop!"

"You will return with Davros." The main Dalek made a statement rather than posed its words as a question.

"Oh darling…" Missy sighed, shaking her head at the Dalek. "You really don't know me, do you? I mean, come on! Me, Time Lady, you, Dalek – I thought not trusting me was an obvious tactic in times of trouble. Or at any time, for that matter."

"I do not understand. Explain! Explain!" The Daleks began to chant once again.

"When Davros created you, did he forget to add a stupidity minimiser?" Missy yelled in the Dalek's face, causing it to retreat slightly. "You really are thick, aren't you? Let me break it down for you: I made you an offer, which you took, like an idiot. And now, I'm going back on my word – it's my number one personality trait, compulsive lying, do try to keep up. Seriously though, did you honestly think I'd save the creator of the Daleks? It's bad enough allowing you six to live."

"You are a traitor!" The Dalek accused harshly, its rage beginning to flare up again.

"Penny finally dropped, has it? Well done." Missy's sarcasm was relentless.

"All traitors will be exterminated! Exterminate!"

"Aaand that's my cue to leave. See you never!" Timing it just right, Missy raised her vortex manipulator, clicking a single button as the beams of Dalek-induced death hit it, right on target. Just like before, their rays powered the device, enabling her to evade death and teleport away. Landing on the closest planet to the one where the Daleks were, Missy gave a giant sigh of relief.

"Falling for the same trick twice – blimey, it's a wonder the Time War went on for as long as it did!" Missy exclaimed to herself, though it was a little boring with no one around to appreciate her humour. Realising this, she settled down on the ground and gave another small sigh. "Well, I suppose it's just little old me and the universe, alone at last."

Who knows what she got up to next.


	7. Seven Cyber Graveyards

_On the seventh day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: seven cyber graveyards (six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

It was the day after the Doctor, Clara, Danny Pink and the Brigadier saved the world once again, this time from the Cyberman army raised by Missy. Due to the amount of risen corpses, graveyards across the world were in an absolute state; soil was strewn all over the place, mounds of mud obstructing pathways, and patches of dirt clung to cracked gravestones. In addition to all the physical destruction, the consequences of another world-wide alien invasion had to be dealt with. The whole situation was a mess that needed to be cleaned up, and that job was unfortunately left to UNIT. They didn't have to sort out all the graveyards, but their duty was to ensure the threat was neutralised, complete paperwork and file the whole event, as well as cope with the probing questions the press always had (obviously by making up a cover story instead of telling the truth about a near Cyber-zombie Apocalypse). Other international organisations took care of graveyards and situations in other countries all over the world. Since Missy had initially sent out Cybermen to the major populated areas in the UK, UNIT contacted local governments and police forces in a few of these areas to check everything was back to normal all across the UK.

One of these areas – the seventh one – happened to be Bristol.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring._ Rolling over in bed, Rigsy groaned as he made a note of the time on his digital alarm clock: 7.06am. Who was calling him at that time on a Sunday morning? Checking the caller ID as he reluctantly picked up his mobile from the bedside cabinet, Rigsy soon realised why the call was so early, considering who it was.

"Hello?" He answered blearily, dragging a hand down his face as he rolled onto his back to take the call.

A gruff voice replied. "Rigsy? We need you to come to the cemetery, ASAP. Got another clean-up job for you."

"But I haven't done any graffiti in months! Whatever this is, I haven't got anything to do with it-" Rigsy protested.

"I know it's not you, but the graveyards are all messy and need cleaning up. Some company called UNIT rang the council about it – it's happening all over the country. Apparently it's something to do with subsidence or whatever, and that rain made it worse." Fenton, the old man who ran the community service centre that Rigsy attended, explained. "You're starting to get your act together now, we understand that, and you're doing great. Thing is, your name's still on the volunteer list, and we're short of people…"

 _So I basically have to do it_ , Rigsy finished Fenton's sentence in his head, sighing. However, it was something he couldn't avoid, and it would make him appear to be a better member of his community if he did it. Therefore, he agreed. "Alright, I'll do it. I should be there in about an hour."

"Good lad." Fenton answered appreciatively before hanging up.

Leaping out of bed, Rigsy pulled on a pair of old jeans and a generic white t-shirt before he headed to the bathroom to get a quick wash. While he was brushing his teeth, the young man couldn't help but wonder about the graveyards. Subsidence happening all over the country at the exact same time, but just in graveyards? It certainly didn't sound likely. And UNIT, who were they? There was definitely something suspicious about the situation, though Rigsy figured it was beyond him. His mind immediately drifted to Clara and the Doctor, who he knew were experts in any kind of weird and wonderful phenomena. It was a long shot, but perhaps they were part of current events. Then again, if this mysterious UNIT were asking to clean up the mess, then whatever strange event was going on had probably already happened.

 _Oh, what am I thinking_ , Rigsy shook his head. _Clara and the Doctor won't be involved in some silly graveyard thing, they'll probably be out flying the TARDIS, meeting some other strange alien people and saving the world in a different way._ Pushing the thought of his one-time friends to the back of his mind, Rigsy instead focused on getting ready for more community service; he knew how annoyed Fenton got if anyone was ever late.

* * *

It was around 2.45pm back in London, and the graveyard near to St Paul's Cathedral which had been the eye of the storm in recent circumstances had just about been tidied up. Graves were now filled in again, gravestones were settled back in their original places (although some had been sent away to be reconstructed or mended due to the excessive damage), the whole place in general was restored.

Now that everyone had left and all was quiet, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart was quite content to have some time alone at last. She was really rather moved by the death of her colleague, Osgood, as well as Colonel Ahmed and countless others aboard the plane and down on Earth. However, nothing had touched her heart and affected her as much as knowing her father had saved her life twice over, as well as the whole world, from beyond the grave. Kate was only frustrated that she had been unconscious, therefore unable to witness the Brigadier's heroic actions and final departure for herself. In order to feel at least a little closer to him, she found the grave in which he had previously been buried and kneeled down beside it.

Inhaling deeply to compose herself, Kate spoke softly, addressing her father. "Dad. I know it's perhaps too late now, but I just wanted to thank you. For everything you've ever done for me, and for saving my life. You have served well, and the world is a much safer place for you having been in it. So thank you, and goodbye."

Kate saw no point in staying longer than was necessary, so she stood up and began to walk away back to UNIT HQ, wiping a single tear from her face as she did so.


	8. Eight Confession Dials

_On the eighth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: eight confession dials (seven cyber graveyards, six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

In the centre of an uncomfortably exposed square, Missy and Clara sat at a table of an Italian-style open air café, having a not-so casual conversation. It wasn't casual for several reasons: firstly, there were eight snipers trained on Missy's hearts and brain in case she became too much of a threat or anything went wrong; secondly, their conversation involved contacting the Doctor, who they were both naturally concerned about, considering he had been missing for months; finally, despite refusing to show it, Clara was massively tensed up due to being in the company of an incredibly dangerous Time Lady whose insanely unhinged personality meant she could lash out and kill her at any time, for no particular reason.

Just as the two of them began to discuss the Doctor, Missy reached inside her jacket and tossed a large brass coin, about the width of a regular human hand, onto the table. It clattered and spun dramatically before settling onto the surface. Reluctant to act impressed or curious in the slightest, knowing it was likely a trap, Clara remained sat back with her eyebrows raised, not bothering to ask.

"It's a confession dial." Missy stated when she realised Clara wasn't going to make an effort.

"A what?" Clara asked, still wary.

"In your terms, a will. The last Will and Testament of the Time Lord known as the Doctor, to be delivered, according to ancient tradition, to his closest friend on the eve of his final day." Missy explained.

Misunderstanding Missy's implications, Clara took a breath and reached out to the confession dial. However, when she touched it, a flash of electricity sparked out of the dial and shocked her, as if it was protecting itself.

"Ah-ah!" Missy scolded Clara, staring at her as if she were stupid. "What are you doing?"

"You said… I thought-"

"No, no, no! It was delivered to me." Missy spoke as if her words were obvious. Clara didn't even come into the equation as far as she was concerned.

"You?" Clara scoffed, unconvinced.

"Of course, me. What have you got to do with it? I'm his friend, you're just…"

"I'm just what?"

Her gaze flitting to something beyond Clara, Missy immediately invented an analogy. "You see that couple over there?"

An elderly couple were contentedly strolling around the edge of the square, oblivious to the potential danger surrounding them, walking an excitable little white dog. Turning around in her seat, Clara observed them.

"You're the puppy." Missy finished, smirking slightly in a vaguely triumphant expression, just like someone who thought of a really good insult would.

Clara glared at the Time Lady coldly, however she refused to rise to her taunting. Instead, she returned to the matter at hand. "So. The Doctor gave you this?"

"Of course not, he never does. The Sisterhood of Karn were his chosen messengers this time. Prior to that, the Shadow Proclamation, a couple of Ood, just whichever aliens are nearest I suppose."

"Wait, you mean to say this isn't the first time he's sent you a confession dial?" Clara was startled, though not entirely surprised to learn Missy had been hiding things from her again.

"Well, no. Far from it. I believe this is the eighth one he's sent me in the past six months alone." Missy admitted nonchalantly.

"You seriously think I believe you? That the Doctor has had more than one 'eve of his final day' per month, and I didn't know about it?" Clara mocked again, shaking her head incredulously.

Rolling her eyes, Missy tried to get her companion(ish) to realise she was genuinely telling the truth, for once in her life. "Right, let me put it this way – in the incredibly short time you've known the Doctor, how many so-called darkest days and final hours has he had?"

Unable to resist considering Missy's words, Clara hesitated while she thought about it. "Okay, good point, I'll give you that."

"Exactly!" Missy exclaimed, quite pleased that she and Clara were finally on the same wavelength. "And he never _actually_ dies – if he does, it's just a petty regeneration, nothing special. But you know what the Doctor's like. Always a sucker for the melodrama."

"So why did you come to me this time?" Clara made a valid point. "If he's just being melodramatic, why are you so worried?"

"I told you – he chose the Sisterhood of Karn as his messengers. If he's relying on that demented knitting circle, he's in a lot of trouble." Missy's words were rather amusing, although her sincere tone made Clara realise her concern was probably legitimate.

"Since when do you care about the Doctor?" Clara questioned harshly.

"Since always. Since the Cloister Wars, since the night he stole the moon and the President's wife. Since he was a little girl." A devious smile crept across Missy's lips. "One of those was a lie. Can you guess which one?"

"He's not your friend, you keep trying to kill him." Clara's tone was bitter and she glared suspiciously at the Time Lady as she accused her of not caring.

"He keeps trying to kill me. It's sort of our texting, we've been at it for ages."

"Oh, it must be love." Clara teased, irritated.

"Don't be disgusting, we're Time Lords, not animals. Try, nano-brain, to rise above the reproductive frenzy of your noisy food chain and contemplate _friendship_. A friendship older than your civilisation and infinitely more complex."

Their conversation continued for a while longer, getting dangerously intense when Missy decided to kill two security guards just to prove she was still 'evil', but calming down after she proved herself by restarting the planes. They soon got back to business.

"What does it say?" Clara suddenly asked.

"What does what say?"

"His confession."

Missy leaned forwards as if to emphasise her point. "It will only open when he's dead."

"Then it won't open. Will it?" Clara was determined not to let her best friend die, although her resolve was dissolving. Missy's arrival and proven concern for the Doctor had shaken her.

Reducing the sincerely tense atmosphere that had recently been created, Missy chuckled and her tone lightened. "Oh, who am I kidding? The Doctor might be a bumbling idiot at times, and stupidly reckless, especially when he goes to great lengths to prove his decency, but he's not going to die. At least I don't believe so."

"Why not?" Clara was bewildered by her abrupt change of tone.

"Judging by the sheer amount of broken promises of his death before, and ludicrously anti-climactic build-ups to it, this will only be a repeat of all those. It's honestly getting boring."

"But he's sent you a confession dial, surely that means-"

"That means the Doctor believes he is going to die. Not me, him." Missy shrugged. "I thought I'd pop along and tell you about it this time because it's fun to see your terrified expression."

"He could still die. This confession dial could be the one, the real one, and then you wouldn't be laughing anymore." Clara spoke darkly, Missy's carefree attitude evidently failing to reduce her fear of the Doctor's demise.

"Yeah, but it might not be. Probably won't be. I'm sick of empty promises, Clara, but clearly you are not. That's why it's more fun with you." Missy smiled like a spider luring a vulnerable yet tenacious fly into its lair. She knew Clara was trapped.

"We might as well treat this like the proper deal, since the Doctor thinks he's going to die." Missy returned to her serious, worried persona. "So, first things first."

Clara leaned forwards, intrigued now that Missy had finally removed her apathetic exterior and was getting down to the whole saving the Doctor business.

"Question: if the Doctor had one last night to live, if he knew for certain he was facing the end of his life… where, in all of space and time, would he go?"

And so their adventure continued. Sure enough, the Doctor's final day turned out not to be his final day – of course he didn't die. Because, let's be honest, in this recurring trope, does he ever?

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Happy New Year everyone - I hope you all have a fantastic 2016! I'd like to thank those who have followed and favourited this fic so far, as well as the guest account who posted a review on chapter 6, and I hope you are all enjoying this fic (I'm certainly enjoying writing it) :)**


	9. Nine Sonic Sunglasses

_On the ninth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: nine sonic sunglasses (eight confession dials, seven cyber graveyards, six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

"Run!" The Doctor yelled, grabbing Clara's hand as they began to sprint away as if their lives depended on it, which they most certainly did. After all, stealing from Museum Bilepimoss was punishable by death, especially if they were taking the most valuable artefact in there.

Their adventure had started when the Doctor suggested they pay a visit to the Andromeda Galaxy; he figured it would be interesting for them both, considering it was a place Clara had actually heard of, and his own knowledge of it was fairly limited. Thankfully, the TARDIS actually cooperated and took them to their desired location this time, but landed them in the store cupboard of the galaxy's most famous museum. Neither the Doctor nor Clara was aware of this fact, although they soon learned about how important the place was when security alarms signalled their arrival and guards approached them in a rather threatening manner. Managing to evade arrest by using their joint charm (Clara filled in the gaps where the Doctor was usually insensitive or rude) as well as innocent excuses, the two of them were soon allowed to browse the museum like any other visitor. This was, however, until the Doctor recognised a particular device on display.

"A laser screwdriver." He breathed, scrutinising the object as intently as he could without touching the glass cabinet in which it was held, knowing that would set alarms off again. "How can this be here?"

"Well if you can make different sonic screwdrivers, I don't see why a laser one can't exist." Clara replied, acting nonchalant at first, then getting slightly concerned at her friend's grave expression.

"That's not what I meant – of course laser screwdrivers can exist, they're more difficult to make than sonic ones, but still entirely possible. What I don't understand is how it can be _here_." Pacing around the cabinet now, the Doctor studied the screwdriver from every angle, before turning back to his companion. "The last time I saw one of these, Missy – she was known as the Master back then – she used it on me. She created it as a weapon, a deadly laser beam that can kill, similar to a Dalek gunstick."

"She shot you?" Clara asked, simultaneously curious and concerned. Although she knew the Doctor was alive and well now, she hated hearing about his previous deaths and regenerations.

"No. See, if you enter a blueprint of someone's biological code into the device and fire it at them, it can artificially age them. That's what she did to me." Almost imperceptibly, the Doctor shuddered at the memory of what the Master had done to his tenth incarnation. It really hadn't been pleasant.

While the Doctor hesitated during his reminiscing, Clara posed another question. "Right, so this laser screwdriver is not good. Very not good. What are you going to do about it?"

His attention focused on Clara once again, the Doctor gained a devious glint in his eye. "What do you think I'm going to do? I'm going to steal it."

And it all went downhill from then onwards. Placing his sonic sunglasses proudly on his face, the Doctor soon discovered the glass cabinet was protected with a deadlock seal, which was good news for the preservation of the artefacts, but bad news for thieves armed with sonic devices. Seeing no other options, the Doctor heaved a fire extinguisher off the wall in a not-so-discreet fashion and rammed it into the glass, smashing it instantly as well as triggering more alarms. It was at that point, after the Doctor dropped the extinguisher and grabbed the laser screwdriver, when they began to run for their lives.

Feet slapping violently against the tiled floor, the Doctor and Clara narrowly avoided a whole horde of security guards by leaping into the TARDIS and slamming the doors shut behind them once they eventually located the store cupboard in which they were parked. Once her fear decreased as she realised they were safe again, Clara burst out laughing. She was unable to speak for a few moments due to the sheer amount of exhilarated giggles rushing out of her system.

The Doctor, not being used to seeing someone so overwhelmingly cheerful, was utterly confused. "What's wrong? What are you doing, why are you doing that?"

"I just… can't believe… you stole it." Clara managed to explain between gasps for air, as a result from their adrenaline-fuelled sprint as well as her excessive laughter.

"What was I supposed to do? This weapon is incredibly dangerous, and putting it on display in a museum was a terrible idea – anyone could get their hands on it. It's much safer here in the TARDIS with me." The Doctor explained in a purely serious manner, clearly oblivious to the humour of the situation that Clara was focusing on.

"Right, yeah, of course." Clara agreed in a sarcastically disbelieving tone, shaking her head as she chuckled.

Getting caught up in the moment, the Doctor smiled slightly, in spite of himself. He raised his hands up to his face, then patted his coat pockets, as if searching for something. Frowning, he spun around and scanned the floor of the TARDIS. Finally, he glanced back up at Clara, his expression frozen in terror. "Oh no…" He muttered darkly.

Clara mellowed immediately, her face now clouded with confusion and dread as she observed her friend. "What? What is it?"

"My sonic sunglasses!" He exclaimed in despair. "I must have dropped them during the chase."

Rolling her eyes, Clara wasn't impressed. " _That's_ what you're upset about? Doctor, what have I told you about getting your priorities straight? You had me worried there!"

The Doctor glared at Clara, hurt. "My sunglasses are a priority! That was my ninth pair within a month, I'm really not fond of having to make new ones every other day. And besides, I get attached to them."

"Doctor, they're sunglasses. Cheap, unnecessary, really cringy sunglasses. You never lost or broke the screwdriver, why can't you just use that again?" Clara criticised, her hands on her hips.

"I thought we already established I'm having a mid-life crisis, Clara. Just let me wear my sonic sunglasses. They won't last longer than a series, I promise. Please?" The Doctor's pleading expression was bordering on puppy dog eyes, and Clara simply couldn't refuse him.

"Oh, alright then! You go off and make your tenth pair, I'll find somewhere safe to put this laser screwdriver." Clara agreed, unable to resist smirking at the Doctor's dorky personality as he grinned in appreciation and dashed off. Although she would never admit it, she was actually beginning to like the sonic sunglasses.


	10. Ten Stupid Time Lords

_On the tenth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: ten stupid Time Lords (nine sonic sunglasses, eight confession dials, seven cyber graveyards, six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

In the council chamber, up in the Citadel at the very heart of Gallifrey, sat fifteen Time Lords and Ladies. They were seated in a royal and superior fashion, surrounding a brass, rectangular-ish shaped table adorned with Gallifreyan engravings. Despite there being no official obligation to do so, every High Council member around the table wore their own elaborate headdress, in addition to their fancy crimson-red ceremonial robes. Lord President Rassilon naturally took centre stage, standing tall and proud at the head of the table, overlooking his people in preparation for the start of their meeting which he had arranged. His intense and vaguely judgemental gaze sweeping over each and every Time Lord/Lady in the room, Rassilon induced silence amongst them shortly before he instigated their discussion.

"On this day I have gathered you for a final meeting concerning the fate of the Time Lord known as the Doctor." He began, his authoritative voice echoing around the council chamber. "As we speak of him in these moments, he is undergoing his extensive journey of purification in his confession dial. We chose this path for him in the hope that he shall reveal the nature and identity of the Hybrid, prophesised to conquer this planet and stand in its ruins. As of yet, he shows no indication that he will do so. Alas, we must wait, for his purgatory is a process that cannot be rushed."

A young Time Lady, seated at the opposite end of the table to Rassilon, gingerly raised her hand.

"Yes?" Rassilon prompted.

"Lord President, why can't the process be rushed? Surely there must be another way to discover who the Hybrid is, instead of placing the Doctor through such torture? He has already been in his confession dial for nearly four and a half billion years…" The Time Lady pointed out, her tone timid yet her resolve durable.

"The Doctor will remain in his confession dial for as long as necessary!" Rassilon thundered, his rage firing up instantly. The Time Lady shrunk back in her seat, along with most of the others. Rassilon continued his anger-fuelled barrage, with no regard for his fellow people. "Do you understand who that man is? He is a runaway, a traitor, a coward! During times of war and despair, he abandoned us, turned against us when we needed him most. That's all he is – someone who will never defend his people, who will only ever bring destruction and suffering upon Gallifrey. The Doctor is a poor excuse of a man, and every terrible moment inside that confession dial is exactly what he deserves."

A deafening silence descended on the table as the Time Lords/Ladies glanced at each other, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in the aftermath of Rassilon voicing his true attitudes about the Doctor. It wasn't like his opinion was unknown amongst the people, in fact it was a common view that was quite popular in some circles on Gallifrey. However, Rassilon's tone and the narrow-minded nature of his perspective was something that didn't quite sit right with a few of them. On the other hand, the Lord President's words struck an agreeable chord with the majority of the councilmembers, and they began to verbally show their support.

"I agree." One Time Lord, sat to the right of Rassilon, piped up. "Like you said, the Doctor has brought much pain to our people, and I believe it is only right to punish him for his actions."

Just over half the table nodded in approval. The Time Lord sat on the other side of the one who had just spoken added his view. "Absolutely. Once he has escaped his confession dial, however, he will be back on Gallifrey, and I doubt he'll just sit back and say nothing about his ordeal. What will we do then?"

Rassilon acted confused. "What makes you think the Doctor will escape? I intend to keep him trapped there until he confesses about the Hybrid, and then I will be there to deal with it."

"But what if he does escape?" A Time Lady pursued the subject. "We must prepare for any situation, it is only proper that we keep one step ahead by having precautions."

Puffing out his chest as if he were proud of his next plan, Rassilon answered, taking pleasure in doing so. "If the Doctor does somehow evade confessing and avoid my intent for the purpose of the confession dial, then he shall be imprisoned, and put on trial for his execution."

A shocked murmur of mixed reactions ran around the table in response to Rassilon's controversial potential future plan. The five Time Lords/Ladies that had previously disagreed with his current course of action decided it was time to speak up.

"Excuse me Lord President, but are you sure that is wise?"

"I am certain it is not – the Doctor is a figure who provokes such debate in Gallifrey, and killing him will only result in dividing our people even more."

"I agree completely."

"Hasn't he been through enough torture?"

"This is not a good idea-"

"ENOUGH!" Rassilon bellowed, causing the council chamber to fall silent once again. "First of all, I am not killing the Doctor outright. A trial shall be held to decide upon whether he should live or die, so his fate shall fall to the hands of the democracy. Secondly, this is purely hypothetical – we don't know that the Doctor will escape the confession dial, so there is a great chance none of this will happen anyway. And finally, when the time comes, _I_ shall be the one to decide what happens to the Doctor. Not you, not anyone else, just me."

Before anyone could reply, the Cloister Bells in the Citadel began to ring loud and clear, drowning out any other sound, thought, or potential opinion the High Council had to offer. Terror began to bloom in most of the Time Lords'/Ladies' eyes as the realisation of what the warning alarms meant dawned upon them.

Rassilon saw the General was approaching with a grave expression, probably concerning the imminent danger they faced if the Doctor had returned.

In an attempt at reassuring the Lord President, the Time Lord who had spoken before, the one on his right, leaned in. "If it's any consolation, Lord President, I am in full support of any decision you choose to make."

"As am I." The Time Lord nearest to him added.

"And I."

"And I."

"I, too."

"And I."

"I'm in agreement."

"And I."

"And I."

The remaining five who had previously voiced their disapproval glanced awkwardly around the room, feeling under peer pressure to agree, despite it being against their internal moral code. Fortunately, Rassilon had stopped listening, and went to speak with the General.

That was it. Rassilon, and ten stupid Time Lords. Thankfully, it wasn't enough to prevent the Doctor from single-handedly taking control of Gallifrey and exiling Rassilon.


	11. Eleven's Last Phone Call

_On the eleventh day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: Eleven's last phone call (ten stupid Time Lords, nine sonic sunglasses, eight confession dials, seven cyber graveyards, six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

One day, not long after she had resumed travelling with the Doctor (the new Doctor), Clara stood pensively, alone in the TARDIS console room. The Doctor had just nipped into another room, to grab a 'timey-wimey detector' or something – Clara hadn't really been listening. She had been too wrapped up in the recent memory of their latest adventure, and comparing that to her alternate lifestyle as an English teacher. However, as the Doctor was leaving the room, he'd turned back and addressed Clara directly, speaking quite seriously, but with an enthusiastic undertone. "This next trip, it's going to be a whopper, I'm telling you."

His words triggered a completely different memory for Clara, one that was also rather recent. The words in the associated memory soon returned to her, words spoken by the same yet such a different man, in his last moments: "Because I think it's going to be a whopper."

Clara was instantly transported to and re-immersed in that time, when she was so scared of the new Doctor yet was reassured for one final time by the old one…

" _It's me, Clara. The Doctor."_

" _What do you mean, the Doctor?"_

" _I'm phoning you from Trenzalore."_

She had been so confused, so conflicted, especially at a time when she had been at her most vulnerable, emotionally.

" _Why? Why would you do this?"_

" _Because I think it's going to be a whopper. And I think you might be scared."_

Damn right she had been scared. Of course, she knew about Time Lord regeneration and how it worked, pretty much, but nothing could have prepared her for witnessing it first-hand and then having to get to know a whole new person.

" _And however scared you are, Clara, the man you are with right now – the man I hope you are with – believe me, he is more scared than anything you can imagine right now. And he needs you."_

At this point, Clara had still been massively unsure. She was torn between her fear of the unknown leading on from such a drastic change in both her and the Doctor's lives, and her loyalty to the first Doctor she had met. The Eleventh Doctor sensed this, and had continued to emphasise what he required of her.

" _Clara, please, eh? For me. Help him." He was struggling to speak now, growing so tired, yet he gathered the strength to carry on, urging his friend. "Go on. And don't be afraid."_

 _The Twelfth Doctor then exited the TARDIS, stepping closer to Clara as if attempting to comfort her in his own awkward way. However, Clara didn't acknowledge him, not yet, as she concentrated on the voice of her old Doctor. She knew it was almost time for him to go, and she insisted on savouring the moment, seeing as it was the last she would ever hear of him._

" _Goodbye, Clara."_

 _Clara closed her eyes, holding back tears._

" _Miss ya."_

 _And then he was gone._

A tear formed in Clara's eye as she re-lived such an emotionally harrowing moment, although it never fell. She had missed that Doctor, she really had. Then she saw no reason to – she was still travelling with him, at the end of the day. Even if he did have a different face, a different personality, but that was just all make-up. He was the same man, under it all.

" _You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here. Standing in front of you. Please, just… see me!" The Doctor had pleaded with her, desperately trying to make her understand. Because that's what he was: desperate._

"Right, off we go then!" Interrupting Clara's thought process, the Doctor dashed back into the console room, all set and prepared for their next trip. "A new adventure, a new era. All of time and space, just waiting for us. The question is, are you ready?"

 _The old Doctor had been right; this new man was scared, terrified even. He needed Clara, more than ever. Finally, she realised this and accepted him for who he was – the Doctor._

And boy, was she glad she had done.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." She smiled up at the Doctor, who smirked slightly in return. Together, they approached the main console. Because that's what the Doctor and Clara were meant to be, that's how their adventures happened. Together.


	12. Twelve Lives Remaining

_On the twelfth day of Christmas, the TARDIS gave to me: twelve lives remaining (Eleven's last phone call, ten stupid Time Lords, nine sonic sunglasses, eight confession dials, seven cyber graveyards, six Davros Daleks, FIVE MISSY SCHEMES, four Coal Hill Schools, three hybrids, two Osgoods, and Clara travelling with Me)._

"Okay, now would be a good time to start running, I think!" The Doctor yelled at Clara in a rather amusing manner, frantically penguin-waddling in the opposite direction to the danger that had inevitably started pursuing them. Without thinking about it, he instinctively reached for her hand. She grabbed it in return, the two of them holding on for that little bit of comfort and support while they escaped.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Clara quickly checked to see how big the gap was between them and the enemy. Her eyes widened as she noticed one of the robot creatures was closer than expected; not only that, but it had a gun directed at the Doctor's head with great accuracy.

"Doctor, look out!" Clara warned.

The Doctor immediately whipped around, and when he noticed the aim of the gun, he ducked as a reflex action. The bright red laser beam that shot out of the barrel of the gun skimmed the very top of the Doctor's head, singeing a few hairs as it thankfully missed him. The two of them barely had time to heave a sigh of relief, as they continued to dash through corridors and swoop around corners in their escape. They soon came to a crossroads, with four paths leading off in different directions.

"Now, which way was it…" The Doctor pondered, his eyebrows lowering in intense concentration. He dropped Clara's hand while he focused on remembering the path to their freedom.

Meanwhile, Clara frantically glanced down each corridor, expecting the robots to return at any moment. As a result, she rapidly grew impatient, and so ended up urging her friend to pick a path. "Doctor, hurry up! They're coming!"

"Yes, yes, I know! I think it was – No, it was this way! Definitely this way. Come on!" Grabbing Clara's hand again, the Doctor all but dragged her down the path to their left as she struggled to keep up. Turning swiftly around the next bend, he then stopped abruptly, causing Clara to bump into him.

"Ahhh, there she is!" The Doctor's face softened and he broke into a grin. Clara was initially confused, then she stepped out from behind him and saw, stood tall and proud before them, the TARDIS.

"Well don't just stand there – get in!" Her tone was half-mocking, half-serious. Realising they would be safe caused Clara to return to her usual humour, although she knew they weren't quite out of the woods yet, therefore she still worried about them getting caught.

Obeying his companion, as always, the Doctor automatically stepped forwards and placed the TARDIS key in the lock. Once the door was open, he held it for Clara to enter first, then leapt in after her. Not being entirely sure if the type of laser would damage the TARDIS force-field, the Doctor proceeded to press a few buttons and pull some levers on the console so they flew far away from the scenario and the robots, just to be on the safe side.

"Cutting it a bit close there, weren't we?" Clara breathed, adrenaline still pumping around her body from the thrill of the chase.

"Is that a complaint I'm hearing?" The Doctor teased, half a smirk in place on his lips.

"Of course not!" Clara replied, grinning from ear to ear. However, her expression grew slightly concerned as she reviewed the recent events. "You almost got shot. That laser beam, it was centimetres away from blowing your brains out. Weren't you a tiny bit scared?"

"Oh yes. In fact, I was terrified. But you warned me, you saved my life. I didn't get shot, it didn't happen – I'm fine now, that's all that matters. No point dwelling on the past. Okay, I realise that's a bit hypocritical coming from a time traveller, but you see what I'm getting at here."

Smiling at her friend's sense of humour lightening the issue, Clara still refused to allow the subject to drop. "Doctor, if you did die, or grow really old, or get fatally wounded or something – what would happen?"

Vague bewilderment manipulated the Doctor's facial expression. "I thought you knew about regeneration? You did see me die and change-"

"Yeah, I know that." Clara dismissed his comment, a little frustrated that he was missing the point. "What I meant is that, you should have died."

"Oh well thanks, it's nice to know I'm wanted." The Doctor interrupted sarcastically.

Clara ignored him. "On Trenzalore, you'd lived all your lives, so your time was up. The only reason you survived is because the Time Lords gave you more regenerations. But how many more? Is it a new type of regeneration? Is it the same as before? What's the deal with the new lives you were granted?"

Sighing, the Doctor realised there was no other way of putting it. "I don't know. I have absolutely no idea. Honestly, I could have five hundred extra lives, I could only have one. Who knows? Not me, that's for sure. Before, I had a set amount – twelve regenerations, thirteen faces. Well, technically I had thirteen regenerations, but one time I regenerated back into the same body, so it didn't really count. Anyway, that's a story for another day. But now, my future is uncertain, just like everybody else's in this universe. The past is something we can mostly rely on, but the future is indiscernible. Again, I'm coming across as a wee bit hypocritical here, but the rules still essentially apply the same.

"See, Clara, I just don't know what's to come, or how much time I have left. All I know, something I've learnt from this lifestyle, is that the present moment is the most important thing, and we should all concentrate on it more than we do. Because, before you know it, the moment's passed and the future's here, and all that time you spent worrying about it will turn to regret. And all regret is past-orientated, so then you still won't be living in the present.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is, I'm aware of the ambiguity of my future, but I refuse to let it bother me. I would advise you do the same."

Rather than struggling to find the words for an adequate reply, Clara simply approached the Doctor, smiled, and drew him into an embrace. Part of the reason for this was to avoid a verbal response, which Clara believed wouldn't have quite the same impact as a hug anyway. Another partial reason was because Clara was very nearly on the verge of tears, and hugs are the perfect way to hide your face. Finally, the simplest yet most justifiable reason was because Clara enjoyed hugs, especially with someone she cared about who had just almost got killed.

After initial surprise from being taken unawares, the Doctor soon settled into the embrace, placing his arms around his friend in return. He had meant every word of what he just said, and he was incredibly grateful that they resonated with Clara and she appreciated them.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And so we have reached the end of Twelve's Days of Christmas! I'd like to thank those who have followed/favourited this fic – I really hope you enjoyed it, reviews are much appreciated. If you'd like to check out some of my other fanfics too, I'd be grateful. Thanks again!**


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